


Good Knots

by peoriapeoria



Series: Dominion Canada: Wilby Island [1]
Category: Wilby Wonderful (2004)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, D/s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-20
Updated: 2011-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:44:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peoriapeoria/pseuds/peoriapeoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilby where the Watch attracted Switches, Taylor is a Dominant that disregards safewords, and Buddy gets a second chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Knots

**Author's Note:**

> Take Clothes Off As Directed inspired Petra to Slings and Arrows in the same AU. This is my take on Wilby.

Duck leaned against a tree, smoking. The list had disappeared, and the story about the Switches on the Watch died. Wilby would forget; they were good at that when it was convenient. Irene wouldn't and he and Dan were Out. Duck was okay with that; he was tired of hiding.

Buddy and Carroll were finally looking for a wife, taking their marriage seriously. Maybe they'd wed two. There was enough summer for two, just.

He flexed at the icy glass pressed against his side. "Dan..."

"I wanted to." He set the tray down on a stump; it held the pitcher, more ice and his own glass. He lifted his hand to his neck and detoured his hand into his hair instead. Val had uncollared him on the spot when he'd told her.

Duck took the glass and sipped. "It's good." He arched his neck.

Dan leaned into Duck, licking his neck.

\------------------------------------------------------

"Taylor is an arsehole." Emily was mopping the kitchen while Mac smoked in the alley, the screendoor between them.

"What were you doing at the motel?" Mac threw down his butt and ground it under his shoe.

"Mac!"

"She's a Domme. She's going to pull anything she thinks she can manage. That's the point of meeting up alongside the school."

Emily shook her head to shift her ponytail. "You figure Stuart out?"

"He's a submissive, but his parents are pushy. Wilby's not like other places."

"How would you know? I mean, about Wilby? You're an Islander."

"I know because I'm an Islander. I volunteer at the Museum."

"Baking clams." Emily wrung out the mop. "Okay, so what did you learn at the Museum?"

"There were a lot marriages."

"Duh. That's what they did before Collaring." She had heard it didn't become uncommon on Wilby until the seventies.

"Same-oriented marriages."

"No!" That was gross. "How'd that work?" Dominant on Dominant?

"Think about it. They were sailors."

"The Mainland's right there. Once they secured the landing..."

"Nope. They couldn't go back until there were enough Wilby-born Islanders to secure their claim. The crew paired and threed up after the landing."

"No way." The accounts were a little hand-wavy. French and his officers had taken aboard their spouses, and various crew had submissives, and these settlers founded Wilby.

"Haven't you noticed that families with more than one child always have at least one Dominant and one submissive? Even when they're twins?"

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deena was frustrated. At this point all the Island submissives of her generation were collared. Mainlanders were fun, but few had the skills to support themselves on Wilby. She wanted someone to stay home with.

"Why didn't you collar Emily's father?"

Sandra flicked the ash off her cigarette. "She doesn't have a father."

Deena snorted. Sandra had known how to get submissives to put out when they were in High School. She just hadn't always been wise in her pleasures. "Or did you have her on purpose?"

"My beautiful baby." Sandra clutched the top of her drink and clinked her glass with Deena's. "We need to trim Taylor's sails."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buddy knelt beside their bed, wrists crossed and tied behind his back, Carroll's fingers clutching his head. He loved Carroll heavy in his mouth. He pulled away to give the crown more attention, tonguing and sucking before feeding more cock in. Buddy looked up through his lashes, up Carroll's lean chest, along his strong neck to the blindfold over his high cheekbones.

Carroll threw his long legs over Buddy's shoulders, pinning him to the bedframe. Carroll rocked into his mouth, fucking him sweetly. Heels dug into his back, toes teased his flesh. Buddy could get no relief for his cock. There was nothing to push against from his sternum down. Carroll thought of everything.

Carroll felt his jaw, soothing the stiffness there. Buddy swallowed as Carroll's climax surged. He watched him fall back against the bed; Carroll's chest billowed, lean arms above his head. Buddy softly mouthed Carroll until aftershocks just transitioned into overstimulation. Still captured, he nuzzled Carroll's whipcorded thighs. "Please take off your blindfold."

Carroll unknotted the long tails of the sash and brought his arms down. "You are a sight, Buddy French." He spread his legs wider, letting them fall to either side of Buddy's back. He sat up, winding his wrists in the sash. "Get on the bed.

Buddy stood and kneed up. He held his head still as the cloth was wrapped around his eyes and tied firm.

"I could retie you, arms over your head. I'd rather ride you as you are."

Buddy groaned. He rolled to one hip and swung his legs in front of him. Carroll guided him down back against the bed. He jerked at the nipple twist. Shivered at the tonguing of the other. He wanted inside Carroll so much. It took everything not to beg, not to come. He was very fortunate. The pressure around his cockhead surprised him and Carroll owned him, took him to the root in one long claim.

Carroll drew his fingers down Buddy's chest, teased his navel and caressed his sides. Only then did he rise up, bear down, progressively receding and taking more and more, until Buddy was barely inside him on the upstroke. Buddy had to bend his knees. He shoved his feet against the mattress. Not yet, he couldn't buck yet. He'd come for sure. Not until Carroll was ready; he couldn't come until Carroll wanted him to.

Buddy wanted to see Carroll stroke his long fingers down his chest. He loved Carroll in the throes.

Carroll kissed Buddy, slid his tongue into Buddy's mouth. Yes. Buddy loved Carroll's mouth. He couldn't plead with Carroll lapping into him. He needed to come. He could roll over. Buddy wanted to buck, he thrummed with it. Carroll must touch himself. Buddy couldn't hold off if Carroll wouldn't touch himself.

Buddy broke the kiss, found Carroll's ear. He licked the shell, nosed against Carroll's hair and tongued the soft skin under the rim. Carroll hitched. Good. Buddy rubbed his cheek against Carroll's ink-black hair.

Carroll rubbed their chests together. Buddy was coming apart. He couldn't not move his thighs, couldn't not buck and thrash. He moaned, groaned, keened like a winter storm. Carroll hung on.

Buddy woke to a warm washcloth. Soon he was being lifted and his wrists freed. Carroll rubbed his hands, strong thumbs pressing into his heels. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Buddy." Carroll lay down and pulled Buddy to him, lifted the covers over them.

Buddy grasped Carroll's right hand. He'd been very foolish with Sandra. "Are you going to take the blindfold off?"

"Looks good."

Buddy ran the backs of his fingers up Carroll's side. Carroll wrapped around him and kissed him. Buddy rolled them and palmed Carroll's ass. Still his.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Duck looked at his bed. He looked at Dan spread-eagled on his bed. He'd locked up all the ropes after visiting Dan in the hospital. "Are you sure?" His long limbs stretched to the bedposts, secured with clean rags.

"Do up my hand." Dan offered the fourth tie. At the Watch, because he was collared, he Dominated. He'd watched Duck though. "Have your way with me."

Duck knotted the tie around Dan's wrist and the bed. He took off his jeans then checked the other bindings. They were good. Duck wrapped his hand around Dan's cock, fisting him to hardness. He let go, pulled off his t-shirt, stripped out of his briefs.

So far Duck had urged Dan to take control. It hadn't been a hardship. He liked it both ways too much to ever collar or be collared. On Wilby that wouldn't have been so bad if the MacDonalds had been different. Duck straddled Dan, smiling as he tried to buck. He gave himself a few good strokes kneeling, not that he really needed the extra edge. He teased his way not quite around Dan's nipples. He smiled bigger as Dan looked at him.

He traced his fingers over Dan's face. "Have you thought about a shorter haircut?" Yeah, that'd be good. Val hadn't taken good care of her sub. Not too short; he'd still want a handhold.

Now Duck pinched Dan's nipples. Thumbed the areoles. Dragged his palms over Dan's chest until his breath grew ragged. He leaned up, caressing Dan's stretched arms. He looked between his legs to see Dan straining for his balls. He lowered himself almost enough for Dan to reach them. After a few repeats Duck crawled back down Dan, and mated their groins.

"Yes!"

Duck chuckled, then wrapped his hands around both their cocks. He thought what it would look like with both their hands. Too good. He leaned over, hands on either side of Dan's head, and kissed him. Good thing Carroll had gone to check on things at the French house.  
Good that Mac had wondered about that closet. Duck stretched out on Dan, thumbing a nipple idly as they kissed and rubbed together.

There were things he wanted them to do, things too complicated for the Watch. Close, so close Duck rose, gripped them and shot, watched Dan shoot, all over him. Duck licked him clean.

Oh, Dan liked that. Duck suckled Dan's balls one after the other. He untied the knots and let Dan bear him onto his back. He purred as Dan gripped his hair.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Where did you get all this?" Buddy figured Carroll was more suited to gathering information, but this was rather impressive and scary.

"I asked Mrs. Corkum."

This had been a source of conflict between his mom and Carroll. Buddy liked what they had, didn't see a reason to shake it up while it was so good. When things got strained with his mother's illness, it seemed another burden. "Have you done a spreadsheet?"

Carroll handed over a folder. "Since I don't know which ones are compatible with each other, I've left the list unnumbered. We'll need to set up interviews."

"It's 'calling'. I suppose neither sounds that good."

"Right, we call on their families." Carroll smiled. "So, read those over; I've got to get to the office. I've got Mainlanders coming to look at the Jarvis house.

"Not Mom's?"

"One thing at a time. Come round for lunch?"

"Sure." He lifted his head and stretched into the kiss.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deena was in her desk chair when Carroll French arrived. She thought that was best should she need an alibi. Not that what she and Sandra had done was exactly illegal. They'd left Taylor where she'd be found by a mixed selection of the student body. Stuart was such a nice boy: too bad he wasn't older.

"You're here. Great. I'll be taking lunch with Buddy, well, whenever he arrives, so I'll need you to cover the office for that. I'll also be showing the Jarvis house, after the ferry brings in the Turnbulls. You should be able to have your lunch in between."

"How's the wife hunting going?"

"Just starting. Oh, I understand we'll need a rowboat?"

"Longboat. I think Duck knows where one is. You'll need to practice."

Carroll looked at her.

Deena smiled. "I suppose only Buddy has to row the longboat out and back. I've naturally never seen a French bridal party." Deena watched Carroll sit behind his desk and call Buddy. She figured Buddy would pick one of the least visible outcropping 'isles', and make it an early morning service for the fog cover. Spoilsport.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emily couldn't believe her eyes. How had Taylor gotten trussed up like that? Gagged.

The janitor got high enough on the ladder to pull the teen in and unknot the bandana.

"Stuart, you bastard!"

Mac tilted his head watching the custodian bringing Taylor down. "Guess I was wrong. Must be a late bloomer."

Emily thought about the scenario. It would have taken two to get Taylor up there.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Duck was painting the shop, since things were a little slow so soon after the Watch and everything. He wasn't worried, he was the only handyman, and people weren't organized enough to call in a Mainlander who'd expect a full day's work or at least a full day's pay.

Saying any Mainlander was willing to come over even then. No, people that cared about Switches would do their own work until something big came up. He was okay with losing a few gate repairs and window-box installs. When their drains backed up or their stairs needed to be replaced, they'd still call him.


End file.
